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So I have a lot of blank notebooks. And by a lot, apparently I mean 13. In actuality, I am 100% certain there are more….somewhere. I have a bit of a thing for notebooks. And pens. And other generic office supply type of goods.

The point being, I have a lot of notebooks, and the reason I have a lot of notebooks is because I love to write. Journalling mostly. Random thoughts. Echos of character dialogue, the things I don’t want anyone to see, really. It’s completely ridiculous how many of these books I have filled over the last 15 years, particularly given the fact that I have had multiple blogs which serve the same purposes, the most long-lived covering the years 2001-2011.

But at the end of the day I still come back to notebooks, because there’s something about the feel of them, the sense of accomplishment of setting pen to page that I just don’t get the same feeling from on a computer. Not only that, but each book tends to have its own lifespan that has nothing to do with the number of pages it contains. It goes by my life, and when I feel it’s time to start a new chapter.

And so here I am. I ended one notebook today. I started it immediately after breaking up with my ex, and ended it when I said “enough” to my feelings for someone else. It is a nice circle, if heartbreak can be ‘nice’. So it’s time for a new book. And I have 13 to choose from. Being bored I put them all in a gallery for this post. Yes, I am that bored. I don’t know which I’ll chose yet, and they come in every shape and type. Time will tell I suppose.